


Bang & Blame

by lilaccoffee



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Camping, Domestic Violence, Fluff, Harry fixes himself and Louis gets to see him do it, Healing, Mutual Pining, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, So much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:49:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4981558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilaccoffee/pseuds/lilaccoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry likes writing and books and quiet things. Louis is the new guy at the library  who shares Harry's passion for literature. Harry also has a boyfriend named Parker who likes to hit him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has triggers. It's heavy. It's angst-filled. I tried to keep it as realistic as possible. My heart goes out to all of those who are/have been affected by domestic violence <3

            Harry has always enjoyed libraries. Something about the smell of the ink, the endless possibilities, and the _quiet_. That last one? Not so true right now.

            Candace is pressed close to his side, chattering on about the newest issue of Cosmo as they file books back in their right places. Harry’s barely listening to her, sex tips and workout suggestions falling on deaf ears.

            Then, Candace squeals, and Harry jumps in surprise.

            “What is it, what’s wrong?” he asks.

            “Look, shirtless pictures of celebrities,” Candace says, thrusting the magazine in his face. “Aren’t they cute?”

            “Jesus, you scared me.” Harry holds his hand over his chest, but he’s not looking at the magazine. “Very cute. Nice abs.”

            “You’re not even looking,” Candace chastises, placing her hand on her hip. She follows his gaze. “You’re staring at photocopy boy, aren’t you?”

            “His name is Louis,” Harry says.

            She raises an eyebrow. “My apologies. You’re staring at _Louis_ , aren’t you?”

            Harry turns red. “I have a boyfriend.”

            “I know that, he drops in frequently enough. Doesn’t mean you can’t check out other guys.” Candace shrugs. She nudges his arm as she shoves a book onto the shelf. “Or girls, for that matter,” she adds, winking at him.

            Harry forces a laugh, but a lump forms in his throat.

            “Yeah,” he finally manages to whisper out, a moment too late. “I’m not interested in him,” he adds after a second. “Or in you.”

            “Alright…” Candace runs a bubble gum pink finger nail over his arm. “But you know how I feel about you.”

            Harry swallows thickly, and he jumps when Candace lays a hand on his arm.

            “Candace…”

            Her nails dig into his forearm, and she leans in so he can feel her breath on his face.

            “I won’t tell your boyfriend if you don’t,” she murmurs.

            Harry can’t speak, has suddenly forgot the entire English language, and he vaguely feels eyes on him. He thinks it’s Louis, but when he turns his head, it’s not the photocopy boy staring at him but Parker, his boyfriend.

            He jumps back, shoving Candace off of him and simultaneously hits his head off of the edge of the bookshelf.

            “Parker!” he exclaims nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

            “No? I come every day.” Parker pulls him close, pressing his fingers into the bruises littering his hips. It’s a warning. Harry can tell by the way he digs his nails into them that it’s going to be a painful consequence.

            “I’m sorry,” Harry whispers, curling into himself.

            “I’m sure you are,” Parker hums, unaffected, just like always. He turns to Candace. “Can you give us a moment?”

            “Uh, sure.” Candace fixes her shirt and disappears down the corner. Harry wants to call out to her, ask her to stay, but he knows that what’s coming for him tonight will be much worse if he does that, so he stays silent.

            As soon as Candace rounds the corner, Parker presses him into the bookshelf, thumbs digging into his wrists.

            “You cheating on me?” he asks gruffly.

            Harry shakes his head frantically. “No, she came onto me. I told her I wasn’t interested, I swear on it.”

            “You sure about that?” Parker asks, pressing closer so they’re nose to nose.

            “I’m sure, I’m sure,” Harry tells him desperately. “ _Please_ , I’m not cheating on you.”

            Parker loosens his grip, just for a second, but then he presses Harry into the bookshelf harder. Spines are digging into Harry’s back, and he whimpers.

            “You’re mine, Harry, you hear me? No one’s going to love you like I do,” Parker hisses, his voice like venom in Harry’s ear.

            “I know,” Harry whispers. He wilts under his stare, and Parker releases him.

            “Good boy,” he says, pressing his palm to Harry’s cheek. “I better not hear anything unusual, you hear me? You’ll know worse things than what I’ve already done to you. Am I understood?”

            Harry swallows past the lump in his throat, nodding. “Yes.”

            “‘Yes’ what?” Parker raises an eyebrow.

            “Yes, sir,” Harry whispers, looking down.

            “Good.” Parker pulls him in for a bruising kiss, and then he finally releases him. “I’ll see you at home. Don’t be late.”

            “I won’t.”

            Harry watches Parker bump fists with Niall and glare at Candace before he leaves. He presses his palm against his chest, trying to calm his erratic breathing.

            “Are you okay?”

            Harry turns to see photocopy boy standing there, leaning against the shelf. Harry tenses up, scared despite Parker no longer being around, and he takes a step back.

            “What did you see?” Harry spits out, his chest heaving with fear. _No one can find out. No one can find out_.

            “Nothing?” It comes out more of a question, and Louis furrows his eyebrows. “I just saw him kiss you really hard, and you look scared. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

            Harry tugs down the sleeves of his sweater out of habit, looking down at the floor. He suddenly can’t make eye contact, and he coughs.

            “I was just caught off guard. He likes to surprise me,” Harry says with false confidence. He raises his chin, and he hopes Louis can’t see the way his lips are trembling.

            “Oh. Well. That’s cute, I guess.” Louis smiles, but Harry sees right through it.

            “You should get back to work,” Harry says. “You wouldn’t want to get in trouble on your first week.”

            “Second.” Louis laughs dryly. “But it’s okay that you haven’t noticed me before.”

            “Right. Well. Sorry.” Harry’s cheeks get warm, and he clears his throat. “I have books to shelve.”

            “I have labels to make,” Louis responds.

            “Alright.” Harry turns back to the book cart, but he feels Louis presence linger for a moment before he’s alone again with only the dull ache of his bruises to keep him company.

-

            When Harry returns to his and Parker’s shared flat after his shift, he’s surprised to see him seated at the table with a pizza on the table. Harry freezes in his tracks, takes a moment to drink in the sight.

            “Aren’t you going to sit, baby? I made dinner,” Parker says, his eyebrows raised.

            Harry can’t figure out his tone, doesn’t know what this all means. Parker is never home when he gets back from the library. He _never_ makes dinner. Harry feels his heartrate speed up, and he cautiously takes a seat across from Parker.

            “Who was that girl who was touching you today?” Parker asks, and it all makes sense. Harry tenses, ready to defend himself (he never stands a chance).

            “Her name is Candace,” Harry murmurs. He’s always quiet around Parker, can never find his voice. He thinks Parker would kill him if he tried.

            “ _Candace_ ,” Parker spits, testing out her name. “Well, you’re going to get her to quit.”

            “I—how am I supposed to get her to do that?” Harry asks, and he winces as soon as it comes out of his mouth. He knows better than to talk back, he does. He’s just tired.

            He tries to tell Parker that when he drags him out of his chair and pushes him to the ground, but he isn’t listening. He punches him in the stomach a couple times, hard enough to wind him, hard enough to bruise.

            “I don’t care how you do it, but you’re going to get her to quit,” Parker says. He spits in Harry’s face, saliva dripping down his cheek. Harry’s crying, always does when Parker hits him. “Because if you don’t, it’s going to be much worse than this, I promise you that.”

            Parker tosses the pizza onto the floor so the sauce and cheese get all over Harry’s clothes and stain the tiles, and then he’s off in the direction of the shower.

            “Clean the floor. Then I want you naked on the bed,” he snaps.

            He leaves Harry alone on the floor, curled in on himself and crying. He spits again, but it misses Harry by a centimetre. Part of him wishes it hit him, thinks it would hurt less.

            He peels a string of cheese from his T-shirt and starts work.


	2. Chapter 2

            Dried come on his lips and chest, bleary eyed, Harry wakes to Parker looming over him. He scoots back against the headboard, already tense, but Parker reaches out and gently rests his palm against his cheek.

            He holds out a cloth. “How about we get you cleaned up?”

            He doesn’t wait for Harry to respond, like always, but he’s gentle as he wipes the come from Harry’s face. He drags the warm cloth down his chest to clean the grime off his skin, and then he tosses the flannel to the floor and slings an arm around Harry’s shoulders to pull him close.

            “You know I love you, don’t you?” Parker murmurs to him.

            Harry nods. “I know. I love you, too.”

            “I know you do, baby.” Parker squeezes him, but it feels suffocating, and Harry can’t breathe. “You’re never going to leave me, are you?”

            Harry doesn’t answer right away, and Parker’s once gentle grip on him turns rough.

            “Are you, baby?” he asks again, bite to his tone this time.

            Harry shakes his head, a little frantic. “No. I’m not going to leave you.”

            “Good boy,” Parker says, but it doesn’t send shivers of pleasure down Harry’s spine the way it did when they first got together, that summer night a year ago.

            Parker kisses him on the temple, and it’s enough to distract from the way his nails are digging into Harry’s arm. He drops his head against Parker’s shoulder, a sigh escaping his lips.

            “I’m coming to work with you,” Parker tells him, and Harry’s heart sinks.

            “What?”

            “I’m coming to work with you,” Parker repeats, laughing dryly. “You think I took the morning off just to be with you? No, I’m going to make sure you get that slut to quit.”

            Harry frowns. “Her name is Candace, and she’s not a slut.”

“I don’t care what she is, she’s still going to quit. You’re _mine_ , Harry. I’m not letting her take you from me.” The biting of Parker’s nails is back, and Harry hisses. “Now get your ass ready. You know I hate it when you’re late.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry whispers.

He waits long after Parker has retreated from the room to move from the bed. He dresses quickly in clothes he knows Parker won’t hate (that blue hoodie Parker gave him on Christmas), and then he enters the kitchen to make the two of them breakfast.

He’s walking with a limp. Parker must have gone rougher than he remembers.

“What are you making me?” Parker asks, looming behind him. His presence is suffocating.

“Eggs?” It comes out as a question rather than a statement, and Parker presses closer, fingertips digging into his hips.

“You better make them taste good, baby,” he warns, punctuated by the pressure of his fingers on his skin. “I’m going to take a shower. They better be done by the time I’m out.”

He disappears down the hallway, and Harry feels a weight lifted from his chest. He still can’t breathe. He hasn’t been able to since he met Parker.

It’s a never ending cycle that he doesn’t know how to escape.

-

No one is surprised to see Parker trailing behind Harry when he enters the library. Their fingers are intertwined, but Harry wishes someone could see the way his hands are trembling. Going out in public with Parker is liking screaming in a sound proof box. No matter how loud you yell, no one picks up that you’re trapped, no one saves you. You can’t get out no matter how hard you try.

Parker’s hand is pressed to the small of Harry’s back, pushing him along. When he spots Candace powering on the computers, Harry has a fleeting moment of panic, and he wonders if Parker can feel the way he’s trembling.

“Go talk to her,” Parker murmurs, lips brushing against Harry’s ear as he speaks. “I’m going to wait right here and make sure you go through with it. If she tries anything, I will see it, and then you’ll have to be punished. You don’t want that, do you?”

Harry swallows hard. “No.”

“Then be a good boy.” Parker nudges him, and Harry takes two shaky steps forward.

He’s too aware of Parker’s eyes boring into him as he walks towards Candace. She lights up when she sees him, toothy grin and all, but a quick glance at Parker wipes the smile right off her face.

“He’s watching us,” she says, her lips pressed into a line. “What’s this about, Harry?”

“Candace,” Harry begins, and breaks, his voice cracking. “Candy.” And hell, he hasn’t called her that in ages. “ _Candy_ , I need you to quit, please.”

“What? _Harry_.” Candace looks conflicted, her jaw slack. “I can’t quit. I need this job, I have bills to pay.”

“Candace, _please_.” Harry grabs her hands, squeezing hard. He can’t forget that he’s broken the rules, that Parker will have to punish him later for being bad, but this is the only thing he can think of to do that will get his message across.

He’s so shamefully desperate, and he’s sure Candace must be piecing things together right now. He’s sure Parker is shooting her daggers.

Harry’s eyes tear up. He’s so needy, so helpless, relying on Candace quitting her job just to spare him from getting beaten.

“Candace.” Harry’s eyes are swimming with tears, and he squeezes her hands. “I’ll pay you. Anything you want, I swear to it. I’ll help you look for another job. I’ll do anything, Candy, I promise.”

Candace looks down. She sighs, and Harry can tell by the tone of it that she’s given in.

“Two hundred,” she says, and Harry almost blanches. “And I want you to make sure that you my job remains open. I need you to guarantee that I can come back if I need to.”

“I promise.”

“You’re going to help me gather applications and fill them out,” Candace continues. “You owe me big time, Harry.”

“I know,” he whispers. A tear falls and races down his cheek, and she reaches up to wipe it away. Her soft touch reminds him of the way Parker touches him after he’s hit him, and Harry cries even harder.

“Come tomorrow at lunch,” Harry tells her, frantically dashing away his tears. “I’ll have the money then, I swear to it.”

Candace smiles sadly. “It shouldn’t be this way. He doesn’t deserve you, Harry. You should have so much better than him.”

“He loves me,” Harry says, and watches Candace’s disappointment grow.

“You shouldn’t be scared of your boyfriend,” she says.

Harry panics and pushes her back. His heart is hammering in his chest, and he stumbles back a few steps. _No one can find out. No one can find out_.

“Thank you for quitting, Candace. I’ll make it up to you,” he says, and then he quickly turns and walks away from her.

He’s almost back to Parker, almost in his disapproving arms, but Louis intercepts him with a hand on his chest. Harry panics, struggling against his grip, but Louis doesn’t let him go.

“Are you okay, Harry? You looked anxious,” he says. “What was that about with Candace? She looks upset.”

“Let me go,” Harry hisses.

Louis releases him, but he doesn’t let the subject drop.

“Something weird is going on,” he says. “It’s your boyfriend, isn’t it? Is he hurting you, Harry? Tell me, I can do something about it.”

 _No one can find out. No one can find out_.

“That’s ridiculous!” His voice goes breathy. “Why would you think that?”

Louis’ mouth opens, ready to respond, but his jaw snaps shut when Parker’s arm wraps around Harry’s waist.

“You’re not chatting up my boy, are you?”

“N—no,” Louis stammers. Harry looks to the floor.

“Good.” Parker’s grip tightens on Harry. It’s a warning. A warning for what happened with Candace, for the stunt he just pulled.

“I was just asking him if he was okay,” Louis continues. Harry shoots him a look, trying to tell him to shut up with only his eyes. He doesn’t think he could speak past the lump in his throat if he tried.

“That’s not your job, is it?” Parker cocks his head to the side. “Why don’t you walk me out, Harry?”

“Bye, Louis,” Harry whispers out as Parker guides him to the front door.

“You’re a slut, Harry,” Parker hisses, pushing him against the door. “Be a good boy, or you’ll have to be punished. You already have spankings tonight for being such a bad boy. If I hear anything else, I’m going to flog you. You know that I like it when your ass gets all red and covered in welts.”

Harry swallows hard and lets Parker pull him in for a forceful kiss.

“Be good,” he says, and disappears out the door.

Tears are in Harry’s eyes, but he wipes them away when he meets Louis’ and looks away.

_No one can find out. No one can find out._


	3. Chapter 3

Harry wakes to Parker shaking his shoulder. There’s a plate of eggs and toast perched on the bedside table, nestled next to a class of orange juice. Parker’s eyes are softer than Harry’s seen them in a long time.

“Morning, baby,” Parker whispers, and Harry’s even more confused. “I made you breakfast.”

Harry cocks his head to the side. “Okay? Thank you.”

“Don’t look so surprised.” Parker lays his hand on Harry’s thigh.

Harry flushes red. “I’m sorry.”

Parker leans forward and plants a kiss on his forehead. He takes the plate and lays it on Harry’s lap, and then curls up beside him, tucking Harry into his side.

“Eat up, baby. Then we can have a cuddle,” he says.

Harry’s even more confused. They don’t cuddle. Haven’t for months. Parker will hug him, hold him under the warm spray of the shower, but they never cuddle. His chest squeezes. This is so much better than he deserves. A reward after how bad he’s been lately? Unheard of.

Harry eats quickly but cautiously, careful not to spill anything on the sheets. Parker is so easy to anger, and Harry doesn’t want to give him a reason to hit him again. He’s not a bad boy, he’s not. He’s just been distracted.

Parker lays down with him on the mattress, tucks Harry into his side and holds him close. His hands are gentle, his breath soft against Harry’s cheek. He brushes a few curls off Harry’s forehead, but then he pulls the strands, and Harry is reminded that all of this is only temporary. He’ll fuck up sooner or later, and then Parker will be forced to punish him.

“I love you,” Parker whispers, and Harry melts into him. Parker rarely ever tells him that.

“I love you, too,” Harry says back.

“I’m sorry for going so hard on you yesterday.” If the I love yous are rare, apologizing is even rarer. “But I had to show you that you couldn’t get away with it. You can’t cheat on me and expect me to go light on you.”

“I didn’t cheat on you,” Harry says, his voice barely an octave above a whisper.

“But you thought about it,” Parker says, and Harry doesn’t have the energy to protest anymore. “I had to punish you, Harry. You were a bad boy.”

Harry frowns. “I’m not bad.”

“You are,” Parker says. “But I’m here to make you good. You think anyone else but me is going to love you?”

“No,” Harry whispers. “I’m lucky to have you.”

“That’s right, and don’t you forget it.” Parker kisses him on the head. “I’m going to run to the bathroom. Don’t move, you got that?”

Harry nods meekly. “I got it.”

As soon as Parker leaves the room, Harry rolls out of bed, ignoring the aching pain he’s plagued with every time he moves. He opens his sock drawer as quietly as he can and fumbles for the cell phone he’s managed to keep secret from Parker for seven months. It’s buried under every pair of socks, wrapped up in one of them and always kept on silent. He’s managed to hide it for ages, but he knows Parker will kill him if he finds it.

He powers on the phone, but there are no notifications clouding his feed. There’s a software update and an email sign in request, but that’s it. Carefully, Harry clicks on his text message app and his conversations with Niall instantly pop up. They’re dated from seven months ago, around the time Parker banned him from having a phone, and eventually, friends.

The last thing they had talked about was Parker. It’s right there, how in love Harry used to be with him. He had told Niall about something sweet Parker had done, and Niall had responded pleasantly. Encouragingly. Now he’s anything but suspicious and concerned.

The two of them used to be close, Harry and Niall, but when Parker got mean, it became difficult to hold onto their friendship. Harry’s too anxious of Parker finding the phone to continue text conversations, and talking at the library is too scary with Parker dropping by at unexpected times. There’s too much at risk.

Niall tries to be understanding, but Harry knows he’s hurt. He’s beginning to catch on, piece together Harry’s nervousness around Parker and the tight grip he always seems to have on Harry’s arms. Still, he tries, and it’s more than Harry can say about anyone else.

He clicks on Instagram next. It’s the only social media he has, and the only photos Parker allowed him to post once they got together was photos of them, until seven months ago when a social life was banned.

Harry has fifty photos posted. Three quarters of them are him and Parker.

It doesn’t register with him until he’s done it. He’s found Louis’ Instagram, and he’s pressed the follow button. The following bar has turned green, and Harry is staring smack at his profile. All one hundred and twelve photos.

The toilet flushes down the hall, and Harry’s heartrate speeds up. He’s quick to turn off the phone and shove it back in the sock and tuck it back to the bottom of the drawer.

He’s quick to collapse back on the bed, sending searing pain up his back with the impact. He groans, rolling onto his stomach, and Parker chooses that moment to return to their bedroom.

“Sore, baby?” he asks as he sits down beside him. He rubs over Harry’s bum, but he’s too rough, and Harry hisses in pain.

“Yeah.” Harry winces when Parker squeezes, but he doesn’t cry. Crying makes Parker pissed.

Parker touches his cheek. “Well, you’ll learn to be faithful now, won’t you?”

“Yes,” Harry whispers, because there’s nothing else to say. “Yes.”

-

The library is deserted on Monday. Without Candace around, all of the liveliness she possessed has been drained, and things seem dull. Only Louis with his bright blue eyes add colour to the room, but Harry is too embarrassed to look at him.

His Instagram page is burned into the back of Harry’s eyelids. If Louis knows about it, he hasn’t mentioned it, and Harry hasn’t had the opportunity to check his phone to see if Louis followed him back.

Louis corners him when he’s shelving the reference books. He rests his elbow on the book cart, his eyebrows raised at Harry.

“Hey,” he says, filling the silence when Harry doesn’t speak.

“Hey,” Harry says back. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the photocopy room?”

“That’s the thing. I need to ask you a favour,” Louis says.

Harry groans. Favours are never a good thing.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Teach me how to shelve,” Louis says.

Harry sighs. “I can’t. I don’t think my boyfriend would like it if I took up extra hours.”

Louis grabs his hands and squeezes, and the gesture is so unexpected that Harry feels his chest ache at the desperation in Louis’ eyes.

“Please,” Louis pleads with him. “I need a promotion. I need your help.”

“Why me?” Harry asks.

“Because you look like the kind of person I can trust,” Louis replies. “And I saw your Instagram, and you’re cute. Maybe this is also an excuse to get to know you.”

“I’m taken,” Harry says, on instinct.

“I know,” Louis says. “But you’re still cute.”

Harry blushes. “Thanks.”

He’s smiling, and when he looks up, he sees that Louis is, too.

“You’ll accept my proposal, then?” Louis asks.

“Yeah.” Harry nods. “Yeah, I’ll accept. We’ll stay for an hour later than usual every night after work.”

“Great. Thank you.” Louis glances down at their still joined hands and blushes. He drops them and takes a step back. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Harry responds. “I should get back to work, though.”

“Me too.” Louis pauses. “Thank you for agreeing to help me.”

“Anytime,” Harry answers. “Really.”

Louis lingers for a moment, but then he disappears around the corner, and Harry hides his smile in a book.

“You like him?” Niall asks, poking his head through the shelf.

Harry tosses a book at him. “Shut up.”

Niall’s laughter fades as he turns away, but Harry’s smile doesn’t.

“I like him,” he whispers to himself, and returns to shelving reference books.


	4. Chapter 4

Pizza boxes warming his hands, keys jingling in his pocket, Louis treks up three flights of stairs to his apartment. Curse the idiot who put the elevator out of service, forcing him to exercise properly for the first time since he moved in.

Louis pauses outside of his apartment to unlock the door. He calls out to Liam, his flatmate, but the only sound he receives in response is the couch squeaking. He furrows his eyebrows.

“Liam?”

He slowly walks into the living room, immediately wishing he hadn’t. He almost drops the pizza to the ground in surprise, and he quickly turns around.

“For fuck’s sake!”

Liam has Andrea, his girlfriend, spread out on the couch, her legs over his shoulders. She screeches, and Louis hears the rustling of the blanket on the back of the couch being thrown over them.

“Are you two decent yet?” Louis asks.

“Yes.”

He turns around cautiously, just in case one of them were to be lying, and he lets out a relieved sigh when he sees them covered up by the blanket.

He holds up the pizza boxes. “I’m going to grab plates and drinks. You two better have clothes on by the time I’m back.”

Louis sets the boxes on the table and scrubs his palms over his face as he heads to the kitchen. Since Liam and Andrea got serious two years back, Louis has seen them in far too many compromising situations. More than he’d like to admit.

When he comes back to the living room, only Liam is sitting on the couch, his cheeks flaming. He’s playing with his fingers, looking at the carpet.

“Where’s Andrea?” Louis asks.

“Bathroom,” Liam answers, looking up. The distant sound of running water confirms it.

Louis shakes his head in disbelief as he lays plates out on the coffee table.

“I come home with dinner and you repay me by giving your girlfriend oral on _my_ couch,” Louis says in a huff.

Liam goes even redder, but he snaps back.

“Tell that to all your one night stands I’ve been forced to listen to you having,” he says. “Living with you was probably a damaging decision.”

Louis merely shrugs. “Probably. Tell Andrea to get her ass in here.”

“Save your breath,” she says, patting him on the cheek. She curls up beside Liam on the couch, head on his chest, and reaches for two slices of pizza.

Louis takes a bite. “Your days were good then?”

Liam scowls. “Leave us be, Louis. This isn’t the first time. You should be used to it by now.”

“ _Fine_.”

“How was your day, Louis?” Andrea asks.

He shrugs, but a smile plays at the corner of his lips. “Decent.”

She eyes him. “That smile says otherwise.”

“There’s this really cute guy that works at the library,” Louis says.

“How cute?” Andrea asks.

“Proper cute,” Louis answers. “Dimples, curly hair, green eyes. And he’s shy. He blushes every time someone speaks to him.”

Andrea and Liam exchange a look.

“What are you going to do about it?” he asks.

“I talked him into staying late with me,” Louis says. “I spouted some bullshit about getting a promotion. Which would be nice, but I only wanted to get to know him.”

Andrea cracks a smile.

“What’s his name?”

“Harry,” Louis answers. “But he’s got a boyfriend, which completely sucks.”

Liam frowns. “Damn.”

“I know. What luck, right?” Louis reaches for another slice of pizza. “His boyfriend is a total nut job.”

“You’ve met him?” Liam asks.

Louis nods. “Yeah, he drops by the library every day. He’s crazy possessive. He’s always touching Harry, getting up in his face. And he lectured me for talking to him. I don’t know what the hell his problem is, but he’s crazy.”

Andrea frowns. “That doesn’t sound normal.”

Louis shrugs. “I’m not going to intervene. Their relationship is their business.”

“And if this guy is actually crazy, you’ll probably only make it worse,” Liam says. “Stay out of it, Louis. Meddling isn’t worth it.”

“Yeah,” Louis says. “Yeah, of course. I won’t meddle.”

Liam eyes him. “You better not. Now, who’s up for a shit horror movie?”

-

After his shift on Monday, Louis finds Harry by the classic novel section. He’s got his long curls tied up in a bun, and his nose is buried in a book. Louis smiles.

“Your hair looks nice,” he says.

Harry jumps, dropping the book in surprise. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, his cheeks darken and he reaches up to tug at the elastic. Curls spill over his shoulders, and he snaps the elastic on his wrist.

Louis frowns. “Why did you do that?”

“My hair looks dumb when it’s up like that,” Harry says, shrugging. “I only did it to get it out of my face.”

“Does your boyfriend tell you that?”

Harry can’t meet his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but his silence speaks louder than any words ever could.

“Well, he’s wrong. You look good no matter how you do your hair,” Louis says. He gently touches Harry’s arm, but he jerks away.

“Do you like me or something?” he asks. “Because you’re always trying to flirt with me.”

“Getting ahead of ourselves, are we?” Louis smiles. “But yeah, I was trying to.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“And I don’t date taken guys.”

Harry stares him down. Louis takes the moment to drink him in. There’s a dark freckle by his lip, and his forehead is dotted with acne scars. His eyelashes cast shadows over his delicate cheek bones, and his lips are so pink, so pouty.

He’s the most beautiful person Louis’ ever seen.

“Can I get your number?” he asks.

Harry hesitates. “I don’t know. My boyfriend wouldn’t like that if he found out.”

“Just as friends,” Louis says. “I’m not going to come between you two, or anything like that. You love him and I respect that.”

“Right.” Harry looks down, lips pressed in a thin line. “Alright, you can have my number. But I don’t text very often, and when I do, I can’t talk for very long.”

Louis passes him his phone. “Here, put your number in.”

With shaky hands, Harry types his number into Louis’ phone. He passes it back to him and stands up on trembling legs. Louis is stupidly endeared.

“How about I start teaching you how to shelve now?” Harry asks.

Louis smiles. “Alright.”

When he returns home after work, Andrea rolls her eyes at his dopey grin and hands him a plate of leftover pasta.

“Had a good day then, Casanova?”

Louis is far too happy to tease back.


	5. Chapter 5

“You have to start working nights?”

Harry struggles to keep the relief out of his voice. Nights mean more time to himself. Nights mean it’s easier to hide late shifts at the library with Louis, time to text Niall. Time to escape from Parker’s nightly hell.

“Yes.” Parker flicks his cigarette butt on the floor. Harry cringes. Ashes litter the hardwood and the room reeks from the scent of the smoke. “It’s shit. I don’t know what he expects of me. Working five to two in the morning. Fucking ridiculous. Nine hour shifts.”

Hesitantly, Harry reaches out and touches his thigh. His hands shake as he rubs Parker’s leg, trying to soothe him before the fighting starts.

Parker seems to have other ideas.

He touches Harry’s hair, gentle at first, but his strokes get rougher, and Harry’s back bows with the force of it. He grimaces.

“You’ll take care of me, won’t you, baby?” Parker asks. “You’ll let me fuck you?”

Harry doesn’t provide an answer. He never does. It just gets ignored anyway.

“Right here, right now?” Parker continues. “You’ll be my good boy? You wouldn’t want me to have to punish you, would you?”

This time, Harry rapidly shakes his head. He’s not a bad boy. He refuses to be.

“I’m good,” he whispers.

“Because I made you that way,” Parker says back.

He presses Harry into the couch and starts to strip him. Judging by the pace of it, tonight is going to be rough; painful.

Harry clenches his eyes shut and cries and thinks of where he went wrong.

-

“What’s your favourite book?”

Louis has been asking Harry questions for ages. They’re in the classic section, where Harry feels most at home. He’s teaching Louis how the binding system works, but he can tell by the lazy way he’s shoving books into the shelves that he’s more interested in grilling Harry for answers than learning.

Harry shrugs. “Don’t have one.”

“Okay, what about your favourite author?” Louis asks next.

“Stephen King,” Harry answers. “But I also like Jane Austen.”

Louis wrinkles his nose. “I never would have pegged you to be one of _those_ guys.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry’s actually offended. What in the hell does that even mean?

“I just mean I didn’t expect you to be into those really old, girlie books,” Louis says, shrugging. Then he takes in Harry’s expression and backtracks. “I’m sorry if I offended you. I talk without thinking a lot. It’s a bad habit.”

“Right.” Harry’s lips press into a hard line. “Books are for everyone. Just because I’m not into erotica and comics and crime doesn’t mean I’m less of a person.”

Louis’ eyes widen. “Wow, you really took offence to what I said. Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m a book nerd, too. _Flowers in the Attic_ was all I read when I was thirteen.”

Harry smiles. A true, genuine smile; teeth and all. Louis feels himself melt at the sight of it. God damn, does Harry have a beautiful smile.

“That’s cute,” he says. “You make fun of me for the same shit you do.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “You caught me.”

“I used to write,” Harry confesses. “I wrote tons of stuff when I was a teenager.”

“Why’d you stop?” Louis asks.

Harry shrugs. “No reason is good enough.”

“Your boyfriend again?”

Harry doesn’t answer.

“Maybe you should get back into it,” Louis says, ignoring his silence.

Harry shrugs again. “I wasn’t any good. I’m sure it’s a lost cause.”

“You never know until you try,” Louis replies. His expression is too serious, too concerned. Harry can’t hold his gaze and adverts his eyes to the ground.

Louis knocks a book to the ground.

“Oops.”

His movements were too precise for it to be an accident, but Harry plays a long anyway He picks up the book and passes it to Louis.

“Shelve it,” he says. “If you get it right, then we’ll hang out sometime outside of work.”

He’s bluffing, and maybe Louis knows it, too, but the indication of time together only excites him. He’s spurred on, rushing up and down the aisle, trying to find the book’s correct place.

He finds it after five minutes. He tucks the book away and turns to Harry with a beaming grin.

“I did it,” he says.

Harry claps for him, and Louis does a small bow. Harry giggles.

“You did,” he says. “Now we’ll have to find a place to hang out.”

“We could go to my place,” Louis suggests. “My roommate is out with his girlfriend tonight, we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Harry doesn’t want to think about how bad of an idea that is. He hasn’t had friends in ages, much less an attractive boy who’s gentle and into him. Louis is everything Parker’s not. Harry hasn’t realized how much he’s been missing out on this kind of attention until he’s become so deprived of it that he’s seeking it from a guy he barely knows.

“Okay,” Harry agrees. “We could go now. I just have to be home by midnight, in case my boyfriend gets home from work early.”

And _that_ is like a punch to the stomach. Harry isn’t safe. No, he never has, and he never will be. Not until Parker is gone, and that’s pretty fucking impossible.

Louis stares at him in shock for a few seconds. He manages to regain himself and reaches for Harry’s hand. Hesitantly, Harry twines his fingers with Louis’, rewarded with a soft fuzzy feeling in his arm.

This is new. This is a feeling he hasn’t experienced since his relationship with Parker turned to shit.

“Come on,” Louis says.

They lock up the library and hit the streets. The streets are deserted, everyone locked inside their homes for dinner.

Harry wonders when the last time he considered his apartment to be home was, but he can’t place it. Maybe it never was.

Louis lives in a tall complex. The elevator is still broken, and they brave the stairs with their hands clasped. Louis releases him to unlock the door, and Harry finds himself missing his warmth.

“Here we are,” Louis says. “Home sweet home. Make yourself comfortable, I’m going to get some food and some drinks.”

Harry sits carefully on the couch. He perches forward, making sure not to mess with the way the pillows are set up. That’s always been a pet peeve of Parker’s, and Harry doesn’t want to set Louis off.

He comes back into the room with a case of beer and a bag of cheddar popcorn. He tosses the bag at Harry and falls back on the couch, knocking pillows to the floor.

He eyes Harry.

“You don’t have to sit like that,” he says. He shoves the pillows away. “Get comfy.”

He lifts his arm and Harry settles against him. Louis turns the TV on, but he keeps the volume low, and it becomes clear to Harry that they’re supposed to talk.

He fidgets.

“You don’t leave the house much, do you?” Louis asks. He’s staring at him.

Harry shakes his head. “No.”

Louis skims his hand down his back. Harry shivers and moves away. The sleeve of his sweater falls off his shoulder, and Louis frowns.

“Harry, what the hell is that?”

Harry freezes. He stands from the couch and fixes his sweater, covering up his arm. There’s bruises and scratches there. His whole body is littered with them, but Louis doesn’t need to know. He’s already seen too much.

“It’s nothing,” he says. “I just fell.”

_No one can find out._

“Harry, that’s not nothing.” Louis reaches for him, but Harry pushes him away. He takes a step back. “Did Parker do this to you?”

“N-no.”

“Harry?”

“He didn’t!” Harry’s voice raises a few octaves. “I told you, I fell. I-I have to go.”

“Harry!”

But he’s already gone.

He goes farther than Louis ever could have expected.


	6. Chapter 6

Parker lowers Harry gently down onto their bed. Bandages wrap around his chest and forehead, dried blood crusted to them. The corners are wrinkled at the edges, deep red in colour.

Parker kisses his forehead.

“The doctor gave me your ointment and your medicine. It’s in the kitchen cabinet,” he says. He sits beside Harry on the bed. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to take it that far.”

Harry shrugs. He’s tired of the apologies. Parker’s like a broken record, always crying and saying sorry, but nothing ever changes.

“You know that I love you,” he continues.

“I guess,” Harry whispers.

But he doesn’t know. Love isn’t wrapped up in bandages and blood stains and fear. Love isn’t tears and pain. Love isn’t supposed to hurt, not this way.

“You’re going to quit your job,” Parker says. He’s frowning. Harry doesn’t care anymore. “You’re not going to be around Louis anymore. It’s either you or him that’ll have to go, and if you’re at home I can keep an eye on you. It’s the only option.”

“Fine,” Harry answers.

He’s tired of being controlled. Tired of being scared. Tired of being hurt.

“You’re not going to put up a fight?” Parker raises an eyebrow.

Harry shrugs. “What’s the point?”

Parker slaps his cheek.

“Watch your mouth. You know better.”

“Can I sleep please, Parker?” Harry asks. “My head hurts.”

He sighed, but Harry could see the exhaustion on Parker’s face. He hadn’t slept much the past week, but for different reasons than Harry. While he was up because of the pain, Parker was awake with worry and anxiety over anyone finding out what he did.

Harry was tempted to tell, but in the end, he blamed the concussion on a fall.

It’s always a fall. Always some sort of accident.

The nurses were suspicious, as they are every time Parker lands Harry in the hospital, but they didn’t press. They’re always kind enough to stick to sympathetic gazes and telling him that everything is going to be okay, even though all of them damn well know it won’t be.

“Goodnight.” Parker kisses his forehead and leaves the room, the door halfway shut.

Harry rolls over and touches his hair, matted with blood. In the perpetual state of loneliness since seven months ago, Harry has never felt as alone as he does right now.

-

Harry returns to the library a week later. He’s finally gathered the energy to remove the bandages from his body, revealing deep cuts and purple bruises. It’s the worse he’s ever looked, the farthest Parker’s ever gone.

Harry doesn’t want to think about what he’s capable of. He doesn’t want to think about how strong and cruel Parker’s become.

Harry’s jobless. He’s bruised. He’s bloody. But he’s not broken.

Louis and Niall are curled up by the comic books with steaming cups of hot chocolate when he arrives. They look up when they hear him, and their gasps confirm that he must look worse than he imagined.

“Harry!” Niall springs to his feet. “You’ve been gone for ages. Parker called, he said you quit?”

Harry shrugs. “Yeah. I can’t work anymore. It’s a long story.”

Niall drags him in for a hug. Harry winces, but he lets Niall hug him despite the protest from his ribs. The affection feels too good to pass up.

“I’m okay,” Harry whispers.

“You’re not,” Niall whispers back. Harry’s too tired to protest.

“Harry, can I talk to you?” Louis asks.

“Sure.”

Harry follows him to the classic novel section. They’ve bonded there over the last few days, hidden behind rows of books and the smell of ink. It feels private, almost intimate, in the soft way Louis regards him.

Until Parker had to go and ruin it, like he ruins everything.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Louis demands. “It’s been two weeks, I thought you were dead.”

“N-no, Louis, I was in the hospital,” Harry says. Tears spring to his eyes.

“The hospital?” Louis asks. “Why were you in the hospital, Harry?”

“Parker put me in there,” Harry says softly. “He gave me a minor concussion. Bruised my ribs, too.”

“Harry?”

“He hits me a lot,” Harry whispers. “That’s not okay… is it?”

“Fuck, Harry.” Louis reaches for him. “That’s not okay. Fuck, come here.”

Harry chokes on a sob. He falls into Louis’ arms, tears spilling from his eyes. Louis holds him tight, and even though his ribs hurt, Harry has never felt so safe.

Louis’ arms swallow him up, but in a gentle, comforting way. Not like Parker, whose touch makes Harry’s skin crawl with self-loathing and hatred.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Louis murmuring, and Harry realizes he’s been speaking this whole time. He hasn’t been able to hear him over the sound of his own weak sobs.

“Everything is so fucked up.”

“I know. You’ll be okay. We’ll fix this.”

Louis repeats it like a mantra, hands rubbing up and down Harry’s back. Harry presses close, filling all the gaps in his heart with Louis’ gentle touch.

“I’m going to help you, okay?” Louis kisses his forehead. “You’re going to get through this. And I’m going to be right here.”

“I thought you didn’t get involved with taken guys?”

“You’re the exception.”

Harry cries out, and Louis pulls him closer. He hushes him and holds him close, swaying back and forth until Harry feels the pain subside and Louis fill the cracks in his body.


	7. Chapter 7

Louis brings Harry out for lunch one sunny Tuesday. Harry told him about Parker a week ago. Louis hasn’t lost interest in him. If anything, they’ve become closer, and Louis’ presence in his life is starting to become comforting.

They walk down the street to a small bistro on the corner of the block with their hands interlocked. No one gives them an odd look. No one questions them. They look like a normal, happy couple.

Jesus, how Harry wants that to be the truth.

He waits at the table while Louis stands in line to get them food. Harry had offered to pay, but Louis had insisted.

“It wouldn’t be a proper date if I didn’t pay, Harry,” he had said. Harry barely managed to pretend that hearing the word _date_ leave Louis’ lips made his stomach do flips.

“Here we are.” Louis places a carefully crafted sandwich in front of him. He takes a seat across from Harry, steaming bowl of soap in his hands.

“Thank you.” Harry smiles at him. It’s astounding how easy smiles come to him when he’s around Louis. “You didn’t have to buy me lunch.”

“Nonsense.” Louis waves his hand. “Tell me about you. What did you dream of doing before you met your asshole of a boyfriend?”

Harry snorts. Louis has a way of using humour in the worst times, but Harry has never felt so carefree because of it.

Louis is good for him.

“Well, I wanted to be a writer, as you know,” Harry says. Louis smiles through a mouthful of chicken soup. “I used to be in university, but Parker put a stop to that. He said he couldn’t keep an eye on me if I was at school all day. Said I’d be more likely to cheat on him.”

Louis frowns. “Does he say stuff like that a lot?”

“Yeah,” Harry confesses quietly. “He’s mean to me. He says I’m a bad boy. He says I’m a slut.”

Louis’ nose crinkles at the word.

“You’re none of that,” he says. “He’s a dick. He doesn’t get to label you like that, especially when he’s lying. You’re wonderful, Harry.”

Harry flushes pink from his neck to his forehead. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“What do you want to do with your life?” Harry asks.

“I’m trying to become an English teacher,” Louis answers. “I’ve had a few setbacks trying to pick the right courses, but I’m doing okay right now. Working at the library doesn’t pay much though, as you know, which sucks, but I get by.”

Harry smiles. “I’ve seen your house. You’re not starving.”

“That’s because of Liam, my roommate,” Louis says. “He’s the responsible one out of the both of us. I don’t know how he understands all the legal shit we have to know to do taxes and all that, but he’s got it all figured out.”

“He sounds cool,” Harry says.

“He is,” Louis replies. “We’ve been friends since ninth grade. His girlfriend is really nice. Her name’s Andrea. You should meet them sometime.”

“Sometime,” Harry echoes, uncertainty in his voice.

“Don’t worry about them,” Louis says, sensing his discomfort. “They’re good people. They’ve already heard loads about you. They love the idea of you, and I know they’d love the real you, too.”

Harry smiles. “You talk about me?”

“Oh.” Louis blushes. _Busted_. “It’s embarrassing, but yeah. All the time.”

Harry grins wider.

“Not embarrassing,” he says. “That’s flattering. And for the record, if I had any friends, I’d be chatting them up about you all the time, too.”

“You have Niall,” Louis counters.

“Niall and I haven’t been close like that in ages,” Harry replies. “Parker put a stop to our friendship. I haven’t hung out with him in seven months.”

“Seven months was when it got bad?” Louis asks.

“Mmhmm.” Harry nods. “We’ve been dating for a year. Three of those twelve months were really good. Then it started to get a little bad, but I ignored it, because I loved him. And then seven months ago it when to shit. Properly.”

Louis frowns. He reaches for Harry’s hand and squeezes.

“I’m really sorry that this is happening to you,” he says. “But I swear, you’re going to get out of this.”

Harry shrugs. “At this point that seems impossible.”

“It’s not. I promise, it’s not,” Louis answers. “It’s going to happen. I swear to it.”

He’s so sure of it, so certain, that Harry can’t help but believe him. He wants it so bad, wants _Louis_ so bad and just wants out, out, _out_ of his relationship with Parker.

Louis dumps their garbage in the disposal and reaches for Harry’s hand.

“Come on,” he says. “Walk me back to the library.”

Harry doesn’t respond, too lost in thought, but intertwines his fingers with Louis’ and holds on tight. He might actually get away. He could leave Parker, and he could be with Louis and be happy. Maybe it could all be okay. Just maybe.

“Why are you doing all of this?” Harry finally asks. They’ve stopped outside of the library, seated on a park bench. Louis has fifteen minutes until his next shift starts.

“Because this shouldn’t be happening, and I don’t want to see you hurting,” Louis says. He grabs Harry’s face in his hands and makes him look at him. “And because—because I’m falling in love with you, Harry, and all I want is for you to be safe and happy.”

Harry lets out a sob, and Louis pulls him in for a kiss. The touch of his lips is soft and gentle, nothing like Parker’s kisses at all. Harry presses into him, hands flying up to grapple at Louis’ shoulders.

Louis pulls away after a final peck to his lips. Their noses are pressed together. Harry is close enough to feel Louis’ breath on his face. He’s crying.

“I don’t even know what love is anymore,” he sobs out.

“Oh, Harry.” Louis holds him close and runs his fingers through Harry’s hair. “I’m going to show you. I’m going to show you.”

Harry can’t stop crying, and Louis runs out of things to say. He just holds Harry close and hopes he can find a way to make it better.

-

Louis’ apartment becomes Harry’s safe place. He eats dinner there every night and stays until the last possible second, enjoying Louis’ presence and the comfort. If Parker is catching on, he’s not letting it show.

Parker works exceptionally late on Friday’s. He gets the seven pm shift to the seven am shift, which means Harry gets to avoid being fucked until the early hours in the morning. He’s calmer but still just as skittish, but his bruises are starting to fade.

Empty plates are stacked on the coffee table. Two scented candles are lit, providing the only light in the room. The soft scent of vanilla is calming, and Harry settles into Louis, content.

Louis stretches out across the couch and pulls Harry on top of him. The TV is playing in the background, but neither is paying attention to it. Louis leans in to kiss him and Harry presses into it. He’s smiling against Louis’ lips, happy without the rush and the harsh touches.

Louis’ hands slide under his shirt, warm against his skin. Harry’s breath is shaky, and he pulls back to look into Louis’ eyes.

“Are your roommates going to be back soon?” he asks.

Louis shakes his head. “They’re staying in Andrea’s dorm room tonight. We have the whole place to ourselves.”

Harry sits up on his thighs. Louis follows him and kisses him again, leaning against the armrest. Harry leans forward, arms wrapped out Louis’ shoulders. Louis runs his hands over Harry’s waist, petting his soft skin.

“Is this going somewhere?” Harry asks.

Louis grabs his hands, intertwining their fingers.

“You tell me,” he says. “This is only going where you want it to go.”

“Are you only saying that so you can get in my pants?” Harry asks. “Are you going to get all mean after I let you fuck me?”

It’s clear that Louis doesn’t know what to say. His mouth opens and closes a few times and he looks stunned, like he forgot just how bad it is.

“Harry,” he whispers, trying to piece something good together. He feels completely useless. “I’m not like that, Harry. I will spend every day showing you what it means to be loved, because Parker is not that, and I am not him. I will be so gentle, and I swear that I won’t ever hurt you. You’re safe with me, I promise.”

Harry lifts his shirt over his head with trembling hands. Louis runs his fingers over Harry’s chest, causing goosebumps to raise in the wake of his touch. Harry nods; once hesitant, once more confident. Louis smiles sadly at him.

“Come here,” he murmurs. “Let’s go to my room.”

Harry steps off Louis’ lap and reaches for his hand. Louis leads him to the bedroom, somewhere Harry has never had the confidence to be. Polaroids line the walls, along with postcards and letters. It smells nice, too, and Harry lets himself crack a small smile.

Louis’ bed is unmade and Harry falls onto the mattress. Louis presses him into the pillows and straddles his hips. This is a position Parker’s had him in many times, but Louis’ looking at him with soft eyes, and that’s more than Parker ever did.

Harry allows himself to relax into the mattress. He wraps his arms around Louis’ neck and kisses him, losing himself in Louis.

Their clothes are discarded in a pile on a floor. Louis has Harry on top of him, palms running up and down his back. Harry’s lost in the way Louis’ kissing him, unable to think of anything but the way Louis’ heart is beating against his.

“How do you want this?” Louis whispers against his lips.

He nuzzles his nose with Harry’s as he waits for him to reply. Harry presses a kiss to his lips and sits back on his thighs.

“I wanna ride you,” he whispers. His cheeks go red, but Louis’ won’t let him be embarrassed.

“Alright, baby,” he says, and Harry preens. “Baby” sounds so much better coming from Louis’ lips than Parker’s.

“You’ve got lube, right?” Harry asks. “And condoms? We need that. Yeah.”

“Harry.” Louis laughs, dopey grin on his face. “Relax. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Harry giggles and rolls off of him. He falls onto the bed on his back, spread out in all of his glory for Louis to see. He almost curls in on himself, but he stops when he sees how amazed Louis looks.

“You’re beautiful,” Louis whispers, and Harry smiles.

Louis opens him up and swallows his shaky moans. He strokes his fingers over Harry’s soft tummy as he works him open on three fingers. His back arches, and he grabs for Louis, nails digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck me,” Harry moans. “ _Please_.”

“Okay, baby,” Louis says. “Okay.”

He pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the sheets. He tears the condom open with his teeth and rolls it down his cock, red and curved towards his belly, dripping with pre-come. He lubes up and Harry whines, impatient.

Harry pushes him back against the pillows and straddles his hips. He sinks down on Louis’ cock, head tossed back in pleasure, his lips parted. Louis grabs his hips, stroking his sides.

“Harry,” he whispers, in awe. “You’re so good. My good boy.”

Harry keens, bouncing harder on his lap. He slams his hips down, whimpering. Louis moans, pulling Harry closer. Harry’s back arches when he comes, low moans falling from his lips. He keeps going, moving his hips, trying to making Louis come.

“ _Harry_.”

Harry’s thighs are shaking but he continues on. Every part of him is telling him to be good, to please Louis.

“Good boy,” Louis murmurs, and comes. His eyes roll back in his head and his feet flex, nails digging into Harry’s fleshy sides.

When he comes down, he notices that Harry’s crying, cheeks streaked with tears. Louis gaps and pushes Harry off him into the mattress. He ties the condom and tosses it into the waste bin, then pulls Harry into his arms.

“Sh,” he whispers, palm stroking down his back. “It’s okay. Baby, it’s okay.”

Harry tucks his face into Louis’ neck, getting his skin wet with tears. Louis pets him; his hair, his back, trying to comfort him. Harry just holds onto him, trying to get the shaking to subside.

“I need to get away from Parker,” Harry says, voice teary. “I can’t keep doing this, Louis. I need out.”

“You’re going to come live with me,” Louis says fiercely. “You’re going to save up money and then you’re going to leave him and come here with me. It’s all going to be okay.”

It’s a shit plan, but Harry can’t bring himself to protest. He wants the false hope that brings a sense of security. He just wants to be okay.

Harry stops thinking and curls up in Louis’ arms. He goes to sleep with his nose clogged from crying, Louis’ fingers running through his hair.

-

Harry gets closer to Louis over the next few days. He meets Andrea and Liam—Liam who jokes and Andrea who is so kind—and begins to believe that he’s not as alone as he once suspected.

Louis tells them about the plan over dinner. He hasn’t heard from Harry in hours, but he suspects he’s playing house with Parker and distracting him from their pending break up.

Andrea and Liam listen to him intently. When he finishes they share a look, and it’s Andrea who speaks first.

“Let’s finalize this,” she says.

Louis leans forward. “Let’s do it.”


	8. Chapter 8

Harry joins Louis for lunch the following Monday. They eat at the bistro again, steaming bowls of soup in front of them. Louis reaches for Harry’s slice of garlic bread sneakily, and Harry pretends not to notice when he starts eating it.

“Andrea and Liam helped me make a plan,” Louis says. “A real one this time.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow. “What are you talking about?”

Louis hesitates. Harry watches him carefully, eyebrows raised.

“I told them about Parker,” Louis says.

“ _What_?” Harry tosses his spoon into the bowl. Soup splashes onto the table, and Louis cringes.

“I know you’re mad but if you could just listen—”

“Why the fuck did you tell people?” Harry demands.

“Because I don’t know what to do, okay?” Louis snaps. “I needed my friends.”

Harry looks down at the table. “I’m sorry. I’m just ashamed. I don’t know how I let this happen to me. I don’t know how I didn’t see who he was.”

“Hey, stop that.” Louis reaches for his hand and squeezes. “This is not your fault. You hear me? Parker is disgusting and manipulative, and that is not your fault. You’re a good person and you didn’t deserve this. Any of it.”

Harry smiles. “Thank you. Really, I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” Louis kisses over his knuckles. “Do you want to hear about the plan now? It’s an ace plan. The three of us spent all Saturday working on it.”

“You did that for me?” Harry asks. He’s still smiling.

“Course,” Louis says. “I’d do anything for you. And Andrea and Liam love you already, so they were happy to help. They just want you to be safe, Harry. They’re here for you.”

“I know,” Harry murmurs. “It’s just a bit weird. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have friends.”

“Well, you’ve got us now,” Louis says. “And Niall. I know you think he’s over you because you’ve been forced to ignore him for seven months but trust me, he still loves you, Harry. He doesn’t understand why you’ve been so distant, but he still considers you to be his best friend.”

Harry wipes away tears. He’s been crying a lot lately, but it’s more freeing than burdening now that Parker is no longer around.

“You’re going to open a secret bank account,” Louis continues. “You’re going to put in all your spare money you’ve saved, and then you’re going to start working on gaining the confidence to break it off with Parker.”

“I don’t have a lot of spare cash, Parker takes it all,” Harry admits. “I think I only managed to save five hundred dollars. I keep it hidden in my sock drawer with my phone.”

“Bring it over to my place tonight. We’ll deposit it,” Louis says. “Oh, and bring some clothes and books.”

“Why?” Harry asks.

“Because you’re getting a drawer in my room,” Louis replies.

Harry melts. “Oh.”

“Is that okay?” Louis asks.

“Better than okay,” Harry replies, grinning.

“Good, because I figured you’d come live with me once you leave Parker,” Louis says. “Andrea and Liam are looking for a place of their own, so it’d just be you and me. You could have their old room.”

“Or we could share yours,” Harry suggests. He’s surprised by his sudden burst of confidence and blushes, but Louis’ proud smile tells him he shouldn’t be embarrassed.

“We could share mine,” Louis echoes. “You know, you’re really special, Harry Styles.”

Harry smiles. “As are you.”

Louis intertwines their fingers.

“I’m falling so hard for you, Harry,” he says. “Tell me this isn’t for nothing. Tell me you feel something, too.”

“I think this is what love is,” Harry says. “I think _you’re_ what love is.”

He’s suddenly hyperaware of how true that statement is. Parker isn’t love. He never was. Love is Louis and his patience, his gentleness, his kindness. Love is all that Harry feels around Louis.

“I love you.” Louis leans across the table to kiss him. “It’s going to be okay.”

For the first time, Harry fully believes it.

-

It’s a week later when Harry gets _the call_. Parker is working another late shift, and Harry finally has time to himself. He’s playing freely on his cell phone for the first time in ages, texting Niall and fiddling around with Bejewelled.

He’s just about to beat his high score when Louis calls. Harry answers cheerily, but he’s taken aback with the urgency in Louis’ voice.

“Andrea and Liam moved out this afternoon,” Louis says. “It’s time, Harry. It’s time to put everything we’ve been working on into action.”

“Louis, I—I don’t know if I’m ready.” Harry’s heart is beating out of his chest.

“Harry, you can do this,” Louis assures him. “It’s now or never, Harry. _Please_.”

“I just have to pack the rest of my things,” Harry says. He’s been doing it throughout the week, small things that Parker wouldn’t catch onto, but he’s been so tired that he never noticed. “I’ll need help getting all my stuff to your place, though. Come over, and bring your car.”

He can hear Louis’ smile when he says, “I’ll be over in ten. Get packing.”

They’re giggling as they pack Louis’ car full of boxes. Louis kisses him against the car, fumbling and laughing. Harry’s eyes are shining with happiness.

In the car, Harry phones the police. He answers honestly to their questions and then there’s a case open for him. Parker is under investigation. Harry is going to be free.

He laughs when he hangs up the phone, like a weight has been lifted from his chest.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” he says. “I can’t believe I’m going to get away.”

Louis kisses his knuckles. “You did it, Harry. You’re free.”

“I think I’m going to be okay,” Harry says. “I think it’s supposed to be this way.”

Louis smiles proudly at him. He says nothing and reaches for Harry’s hand. Harry squeezes back, feeling lighter than he has in a long time.


	9. Chapter 9

The police officers assigned to interview Harry are nice enough, but it doesn’t make it any easier for him to repeat what Parker did to him.

They show up during an evening of binge watching movies. Harry is curled up on Louis’ lap, safe and happy, but the three sharp knocks immediately make him tense up. He knows what’s coming. He’s been expecting all day. Still, he wishes he could postpone it longer.

Louis kisses him on the forehead. “I’ll get it.”

He slips out from under Harry and goes to answer the door. Harry tucks his feet underneath him and sits up, picking at the skin around his nails. Part of him expects it to be Parker, but his anxiety eases off a bit when he sees two cops entering the room behind Louis. He’s never been relieved to see police officers before.

One of the officers is burly with a thick mustache, and the other is long and lean, stalky like a beanpole.

Mustache extends his hand for Harry to shake. Beanpole does the same.

“Hello, Harry. I’m Officer Parkes,” Mustache says. He gestures to the other cop. “This is Officer Tanner.”

“Hello.” Harry shakes their hands, looking wary. He’s intimidated by them, but he always has been by people in power.

Parkes and Tanner take a seat on the couch. Parkes has a notebook and Tanner clutches a sketchbook in his hands. Things suddenly become real for Harry, and he feels his heartrate speed up.

He stays curled up on the loveseat, pick, pick, _picking_ at his skin. Louis moves to go sit beside him, but stops when he sees the look of fear on Harry’s face.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asks.

Harry’s eyes flick up to his, and he nods.

“Please,” he whispers.

Louis slides in beside him and wraps an arm around him. Harry curls into his side, pressing his nose into the thin cotton of Louis’ shirt. He breathes in the scent of fabric and cologne, his eyes fluttering shut. Louis smells good. Louis smells safe.

“Are you ready, Harry?” Officer Parkes asks.

Harry nods.

“Yeah.” His voice wavers. He’s not too sure of the answer, and Louis can tell. He rubs his hand up and down Harry’s arm.

“Today we’d like to get a statement from you,” Tanner says. “We have a lawyer prepared to take on your case if you decide to go to court over this.”

Harry turns this over in his brain for a moment.

“I want to press charges,” he says with certainty. “I want him to go away. I don’t want him to do this to anyone else.”

Tanner smiles. “That’s a good place to start.”

Parkes clicks his pen open and presses the tip to a clean page in his notebook.

“How has Parker hurt you, Harry?” he asks.

“He hit me,” Harry says. “And he—he had sex with me when I told him no.”

“Ever been to the hospital?” Parkes askes next.

Harry nods. “Yeah. I always lied to the nurses, though. I was too scared to tell anyone what was happening to me. I thought Parker would kill me if I said something.”

“Why did you decide to say something now?” Tanner asks.

“I had enough,” Harry says. “I met Louis, and I realized the way Parker was treating me wasn’t normal. I just wanted out. I took a while, but I left him, and here I am.”

Parkes writes this down. He asks a few more questions, and then Tanner draws a picture of Parker using Harry’s description of him. Louis holds him through it all, rubbing his back in a reassuring manner. Harry is appreciative.

Parkes and Tanner leave once they’re satisfied with Harry’s answers. They give him the number to his lawyer to schedule a meeting with her, and then they leave with promises to bring him justice.

Harry is conflicted between empty promises and the truth.

Once they’re gone, Harry collapses into Louis, exhausted. Louis wraps his arms around him, running his fingers through his hair.

“Are you okay?” Louis asks.

Harry shrugs. “I’m never really okay.”

“I know,” Louis murmurs sadly. He pulls Harry closer. “But you’re going to be. Maybe you should consider treatment, Harry. Counselling or something. Or one of those domestic violence centres.”

Harry shudders at the word. He’s never been able to say it to himself before. Hearing it now is quaking reality.

“I don’t need that,” Harry says.

Louis sighs, defeated. This isn’t going anywhere, and he knows it. He rubs Harry’s arm, leaving a kiss on his temple.

“Abusive relationships really fuck people up,” he says. Harry glares at him. Louis relents. “But ultimately you’re in charge of yourself, and if you feel you don’t need it, then fine, I won’t argue with you.”

“Thank you.”

They fall silent. Louis tucks his nose into Harry’s hair and breathes him in. It’s quiet for a long time as they just listen to each other breathe. Harry’s never had this before. Louis isn’t demanding anything. This is a foreign concept to him.

“What are we, Louis?” Harry finally speaks. He looks up at Louis with wide green eyes, and Louis melts.

“You tell me,” Louis replies. “I’d like to be able to call you my boyfriend, but I don’t know how you feel about that.”

“I want to be your boyfriend,” Harry says. “I want to so bad. I love you, Louis.”

Louis tears up. “God, I love you so much.”

Harry chokes on a sob. Louis kisses him, hands running up and down Harry’s back.

“Can I fuck you?” he murmurs.

Harry sucks in a sharp breath.

“Yes,” he says. “ _Please_.”

“Come here, baby.” Louis lifts him up, Harry’s skinny legs wrapped around his hips, and carries them to their bedroom.

He fucks him gently, soft kisses peppered on his face and neck as he rolls his hips into Harry’s. Harry makes pretty moans and watches him with wide green eyes, fucking down onto Louis’ cock.

After they’ve come down, Louis holds Harry close, petting his soft skin. Harry rolls onto his side, wrapping his arm around Louis’ middle. He kisses Louis’ chest.

“I love you,” he says shyly.

Louis grins, feeling butterflies erupt in his stomach.

“I love you, too,” he murmurs.

He kisses Harry’s temple, runs his hand down his back. Harry nuzzles into his neck and sighs, content. Louis stares at him with soft eyes, drinking him in. He touches the freckles dotting Harry’s cheeks, runs his thumb across his pretty lips. Harry smiles.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” Louis whispers. He presses his thumb into Harry’s dimple and kisses him on the lips.

Harry preens. “No.”

“You are,” Louis says. “Most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen.”

Harry’s cheeks go red. “ _Stop_.”

Louis laughs, but he relents, sparing Harry further embarrassment. Louis kisses him on the cheek.

“Andrea offered to keep you company tomorrow while I’m at work,” Louis tells him. “She wants to be your friend. She says she’s here, and that she’s yours if you’ll have her.”

Harry cracks a small smile.

“She’s nice,” he says. “I like her. I just don’t know how to have friends.”

Louis is quiet for a moment. He strokes fingers over Harry’s cheek, gentle as always. Harry hums.

“It’s not as hard as you think,” Louis finally says. “Andrea is the sweetest person I’ve met besides you. And I’d trust Liam with my life.”

“I want to get to know them,” Harry says with certainty. “Tell her I want to go out for lunch.”

Louis kisses him, smiling into his lips.

“I’m proud of you,” he says. “Invite Niall out soon, yeah? He’s been looking for you.”

“Maybe I could start working at the library again,” Harry suggests.

Louis beams.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he replies. “Now roll over so I can cuddle you properly. It’s time for us to sleep.”

Harry giggles and rolls onto his side. Louis wraps his arm around his middle, nuzzles into his neck and kisses his skin. He tucks his hand under Harry’s shirt, rubbing soft circles on his tummy.

“I love you,” Louis murmurs.

Harry smiles. “I love you, too.”

Louis slips his fingers into his and squeezes.

“Goodnight, baby,” he says.

“Goodnight,” Harry echoes.

-

Harry finds friendship and safety in Andrea. It’s been ages since he’s had lunch with a friend, been ages since he’s had a friend at all, but she seems to know all the right things to say to put him at ease. She’s a special kind of person Harry knows he’s lucky to know.

“Tell me about you,” Andrea says. “How did you and Louis meet?”

Harry’s certain she already knows the answer, but her interest in him makes him feel important. He’s needed a friend like her for a long time. He’s missed people that care.

“I used to work at the library,” Harry says. “He flirted with me for weeks. He was very persistent.”

Andrea snorts. “Sounds like Louis.”

“Then he asked me over to his place, and I said yes,” Harry continuous. “I was infatuated with him. Still am, to tell you the truth. He saw the bruises Parker left on me, and I flipped. I walked right out and I didn’t come back for two weeks. I thought that Louis would lose interest in me once he figured out how fucked up my situation was—is. But he didn’t. He still wanted me.”

Andrea smiles. “He loves you a lot, Harry. It’s only been a few months, but he does. I do, too. So does Liam.”

“Is he okay with you hanging out with me?” Harry asks. “He doesn’t think I’m trying to steal you away, does he?”

Her expression gets sad.

“No, Harry,” she says, shaking her head. “Liam doesn’t control me. He’s my boyfriend, not my parent. I do what I want and I converse with who I want.”

Harry looks down at his plate. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget that people aren’t supposed to treat people like Parker treated me.”

Andrea reaches for his hand and squeezes.

“You’ve got us now, and we’re going to take care of you,” she says.

Harry goes to respond, but his phone rings. He digs it out of his pocket and checks the caller ID. His stomach drops.

“I’m really sorry, but I have to take this,” he says.

Andrea waves her hand. “No worries.”

Harry answers the phone and brings it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Harry,” Natalie, his lawyer, says. “I just received some paperwork from the court. Your trial is in two months. On October seventeenth.”

Harry almost drops the phone.

“Oh,” he breathes out.

“Let’s meet in two weeks,” Natalie says. “We need to start finalizing our position.”

“Okay,” Harry says weakly. “Thank you for calling. Goodbye, Natalie. Have a good afternoon.”

He hangs up before she can respond. He slips his phone into his pocket, feeling like he’s about to throw up. His heart rate speeds up, and he feels sweat beads form at his hairline.

“Harry?” Andrea says slowly. “Are you alright? You suddenly look really pale.”

“Parker. Need Louis,” Harry manages.

Andrea helps him stand. She holds onto his arm and leaves money on the table for the waitress to collect. She leads him down the street with gentle hands on his back, murmuring comforting nonsense to him.

She leads him straight into the library and marches up to the desk. Louis is laughing his ass off with Niall, but he stops as soon as he sees Harry’s face.

“Babe?” Louis reaches for him, pulls him into his arms. “What happened?”

Harry’s only response is a hiccupping sob. Louis hugs him tighter, holds him fiercely and doesn’t let go.

“Andrea?” he demands.

“I don’t know.” She holds up her hands. The sincerity in her eyes hurts. “He got a phone call and then he just panicked. I don’t know what happened.”

“Can you give us a moment?” Louis gives Andrea and Niall a look. “I’ll calm him down, it’ll be alright.”

“Sure thing.” Niall nods. “Andrea and I’ll go get some coffee. We’ll bring you two back fraps.”

“Sounds good,” Louis replies.

He runs his palms down Harry’s back, hushing him. He kisses his temple, rocks him from side to side.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“October seventeenth,” Harry says, words muffled against Louis’ shirt.

“What does that mean, baby?” Louis asks.

“Court date.”

“Oh. _Shit_.”

Louis holds him tighter, rocking him just a little faster. He buries his nose into Harry’s hair, feeling more helpless than ever.


	10. Chapter 10

Summer ends in a blur of adventures and prepping for court and choosing courses for university. Harry proudly dresses in a pair of jeans and a button up T-shirt, adjusting his collar in the mirror. Louis sneaks up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist from behind. He kisses his neck.

“You look good,” he murmurs.

Harry closes his eyes and leans back against him, cheek pressed against Louis’ temple. He intertwines their fingers and squeezes.

“I’m proud of you,” Louis says. “So proud of you. You’ve got your job back, you’re returning to school. Look at you. Look at what you’re accomplishing.”

Harry blushes. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Louis chuckles, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Sure, whatever you say,” he says. “Still proud of you, though.”

“Are we still walking to the library together after school?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, of course,” Louis replies. “I get off thirty minutes before you, so I was going to go grab some takeout and then meet you outside your last class.”

“We should take the bus,” Harry suggests. “Too tired to walk.”

Louis laughs. “You’re so lazy. You’re lucky I love you or I’d leave you to walk in the rain.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Uh huh, sure. You’d never make me walk.”

“Probably not,” Louis agrees, sneaking a peck to his cheek. “But let’s keep that on the down low. Wouldn’t want how whipped I am for you to be revealed.”

Harry giggles and pulls out of his grip. He kisses him quickly and reaches for his hand.

“Come on, let’s get going,” he says.

The bus ride to their university is silent. Harry cuddles into Louis on the dusty seats, fingertips gently brushing against his arm. Shared earphones blast a Spotify pop playlist.

The bus comes to a stop across the street from their campus. Harry’s jaw drops when he sees it. The building is five times bigger than his high school, and he chokes.

“Holy shit,” he whispers.

Louis reaches for his hand.

“You sure about this?” he asks.

Harry hesitates, but he eventually nods.

“Yeah,” he says, though his voice shakes. He clears his throat. “Yeah, let’s go. Time to be who I want to be.”

Louis smiles at him. “That’s my boy.”

Harry melts. His fears disappear, and he rolls his shoulders back, ready to take on the world of university. He lets Louis kiss him breathless in front of his first period English class and they make a promise to eat lunch together before they part ways.

Harry walks into English with a smile on his face. He’s confident as he sits next to a tall, skinny boy with dark skin and pretty eyes.

“This seat taken?” he asks.

The boy shakes his head. “Nope.”

“I’m Harry Styles, by the way,” he says. He shakes the boy’s hand, who smiles in amusement.

“Zayn Malik,” he says. “You’re a little old for a freshman class, aren’t you?”

Harry shrugs, trying to come off as nonchalant.

“Started late,” he says. “But I’m here now and ready to make the most of it.”

Zayn laughs. “I like you, Harry Styles. You’re funny. And I heard if you make one new friend on your first day that it’s a good sign, so how about we have lunch together?”

Harry’s face falls. _Louis_. What if he gets angry? What if he hates Harry for making friends?

He shakes his head. “I’m really sorry, but my boyfriend is taking me out to lunch today. How about tomorrow? We can eat in the library.”

“It seems like you’re hiding something.” Zayn raises an eyebrow at him. “Either way, secrets are personal matters and I don’t pry. Let’s do what you suggested and eat together tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” Harry grins. “What are you majoring in?”

“Fashion,” Zayn responds. “I want to be a designer. I’m taking English and business courses, too, but my main focus is in the arts. What about you?”

“English. I want to be an author,” Harry tells him.

Zayn purses his lips. “Big goals, Harry Styles. Best of luck to you.”

“Thank you.”

The teacher comes in, and the two of them fall silent. Harry feels something fuzzy in his stomach, admiration for Zayn warming him. _This is what it’s like to live_ , he thinks.

-

Harry is still welcomed with strange looks when he shows up at the library. It’s only been a few weeks, but he thought he’d be welcomed with kindness instead of ignorance.

It all makes sense when he sees the paper.

Niall thrusts it at him during their dinner break. With furrowed eyebrows, Harry flips it open to page eight, and he tears up when he reads the article.

_Twenty six year old Parker Matthews to appear in court next month on charges for domestic violence and the sexual abuse of his ex-boyfriend._

_Matthews pleads innocent to the charges, but it has been said that a plea bargain remains on the table. Matthews is looking at a ten year sentence without parole._

Louis looks over his shoulder, and his heart sinks. He kisses his cheek and wipes his tears away.

“Baby,” he murmurs.

Niall interrupts him.

“This is about you, isn’t it?” he asks.

Harry sniffles, nods shortly.

Niall sighs. “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

He stands up and pulls him into a hug. Harry tucks his face into his neck, choking on a sob.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

Niall squeezes him tighter. “Nothing to be sorry about. You’re my best friend. I’m here. Nothing will change that.”

Harry meets Louis’ eyes over Niall’s shoulder. He’s smiling sadly at him, and he holds up a half assed thumbs up. Harry returns it weakly.

“I’m not going anywhere either,” he mumbles to Niall. “I promise.”

-

Harry fixes his bowtie in the mirror, straightening it against his collar bones. He takes in shaky breathes.

“This is it, Harry,” he tells himself. “Today is the day of the hearing. Parker is going to be sent to jail, and you and anyone else he could get his hands on are going to be free.”

He sees Louis’ reflection in the mirror, knows he’s watching him, but Harry ignores him. He fixes his close and continues his speech.

“Do everything you rehearsed,” he says. “Stay calm and say what you practiced. Remember, all you have to do is answer the questions honestly. Everything else will fall into place.”

Louis smiles sadly. “Nervous?”

“Nervous doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Harry snorts. “It’ll be okay, though… won’t it?”

“Course it’ll be okay.” Louis comes up behind him and kisses him on the cheek, wraps Harry up in his arms. “This is going to be one of the hardest things you’ll ever do, but it’s going to be alright.”

Harry turns around and nuzzles into Louis’ neck. He closes his eyes, breathes in the smell of his skin.

“I believe you,” he murmurs.

Louis’ kisses his forehead. “Good. You ready?”

Harry rolls his shoulders back and manages to nod.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”


	11. Chapter 11

Harry and Zayn eat lunch together in the library, secluded from everyone else. They eat together every Monday and Thursday, when Louis has footie practice. They’ve gotten closer over the past month, and Harry is proud of himself for how easily he made a friend.

Today, Zayn has a newspaper spread over the table. He’s looking at Harry sadly, and he tenses.

“What is it?” he asks, slowly sitting down.

Zayn points to an article. The title reads _DOMESTIC VIOLENCE VICTIM FINALLY AT PEACE_. Harry cringes.

“Zayn—”

“Are you okay, Harry?” he asks. “I stayed up all night thinking about it—about you. I was surprised. I couldn’t believe this happened to you.”

Harry looks down at his lap. He picks at his skin and sighs.

“I didn’t know they were going to print that article,” he finally says. “I didn’t want anyone to find out. I want to be more than some kid that was abused.”

“You’re so much more than that,” Zayn says. “I had no idea about your past. All I knew is that you’re a smart, sweet guy that I’m happy I met. You’re really cool, Harry. I’m sorry that he did that to you. You didn’t deserve it. No one does. But you can be someone else, you can get better.”

“You know what, you’re right. I can get better. But I feel really fucking hopeless. At this point getting better seems impossible,” Harry replies.

“You’ll have to find some hope,” Zayn says. “Lord knows it’ll be tough, but it’s out there.”

“What do you suggest?” Harry asks.

“You’re a damn good writer, Harry Styles,” Zayn responds. “I say you should do something with that. Get back into your passion. Once you start to feel like things are worth living for, you’ll start to feel like there could be hope again. Then it won’t seem so impossible.”

“I hope you’re right,” Harry mutters.

“Haven’t been wrong so far,” Zayn answers.

Harry snorts. “I doubt that, but I’ll act like I trust your judgement just in case you’re onto something.”

Zayn shakes his head, grinning.

“Your boyfriend must be head over heels for you,” he remarks.

Harry blushes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not gay, Harry.”   Zayn chuckles. “I’m just saying that he’s pretty lucky to have a guy like you on his arm.”

“He doesn’t know about you,” Harry confesses quietly. “I’m too afraid to tell him.”

Zayn’s eyebrows furrow. “Why?”

“My ex didn’t let me have friends,” Harry replies. He can’t meet Zayn’s eyes. “It’s a built up fear. I’m working on it.”

“I won’t push, but introduce us sometime, yeah? It’d be lovely to get to know him,” Zayn says. He checks his watch and sighs. “I gotta run. I need to get my assignment from my art teacher.”

“Alright.”

Zayn stands up and ducks down to pull him in for a quick hug.

“Be safe, okay?” he says.

“I will,” Harry answers. “I promise.”

-

Later that night, Harry curls up in Louis’ arms and lets out a sigh. He’s exhausted, eyes droopy with sleep. Louis runs his fingers through Harry’s hair, presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Did you have a good day?” he asks.

Harry shrugs. “Decent. I think I passed my English quiz, though. I’m feeling confident about it.”

“That’s good.” Louis smiles proudly at him. “I had an idea. Liam and I thought about it. Do you wanna hear?”

Harry nods. “Of course.”

“We thought we’d take a bit of a vacation,” Louis says. “How about we take a week of uni? You, me, Liam, Niall, and Andrea. Liam and I thought we could go camping.”

Harry lights up. He hasn’t gone camping since he was a kid. The suggestion makes him feel warm inside.

“I’d love that,” he says.

Louis grins and leans in for a kiss. He smiles against Harry’s lips, settling his palm on his face.

“I want to bring a friend,” Harry says when they pull away. He looks shy, but Louis can’t understand why.

“You have a friend?” Louis asks. “For how long?”

“Since uni started,” Harry replies. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him. Parker never let me have friends.”

Louis smiles sadly. “I knew about him, baby. Zayn, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry looks down. “You’ve seen us together, haven’t you?”

“Mmhmm.” Louis nods. “Don’t be upset, though, okay? I’m glad you have friends. I want you to have friends.”

“So it’s okay if he comes with us?” Harry asks.

“Course, baby,” Louis replies. “We’re thinking of going in two weeks. Niall’s booked the time off and so have Liam and Andrea. Ask him tomorrow?”

“I will. Can we sleep now?”

Louis chuckles. “Yes, of course. Goodnight, I love you.”

“I love you, too. Goodnight.”

Harry nuzzles into his neck and falls asleep, dreaming of peaceful things and a world far away from hurt.

-

Harry likes the crunch of leaves under his boots. He likes the feeling of Louis’ hand in his and he likes the way Louis feeds him chocolate almonds by the fire. He likes to see Andrea and Liam happy together, and he smiles at the way Zayn and Niall have bonded.

Louis leans over and kisses him on the cheek. Harry looks and him and smiles. The reflection from the flames are flickering over Louis’ face, dancing in his pupils. Harry presses his thumb to his lips.

“How are you doing?” Louis asks.

“I think I feel happy,” Harry responds. He lifts his chin up confidently. “Yeah. I’m feeling happy.”

Louis grins. “I’m proud of you.”

“I love you,” Harry says in response.

“You too.” Louis kisses him. Gently, sweetly.

Niall holds up a chocolate bar. “To us, partners in crime.”

“To us,” the group echoes.

Louis holds up his water bottle, looking right at Harry when he speaks.

“To Harry, for his strength and for being the bravest person I know.”

“To Harry!”

Harry smiles. “To Harry.”


	12. Epilogue

Harry meets Louis’ mum on Christmas. He fidgets with his clothes on the way up to the door, anxiety ever present. Louis pauses at the door and reaches for him, pulling him close.

“It’s going to be alright,” he murmurs.

Harry tucks his face into his neck. “What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Don’t be silly.” Louis’ fingers tighten in the back of Harry’s shirt. “She loves you already. I tell her enough about you.”

Harry pulls back slightly and peers at Louis with big eyes.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Harry sucks in a shaky breath and nods.

“Okay,” he whispers. “I’m ready.”

Louis reaches for his hand. He intertwines their fingers and squeezes as he rings the doorbell. His mum opens the door a few seconds later, and she lights up when she sees them.

“Baby!” she pulls Louis into a hug. “It’s so good to see you, darling.”

“Lovely to see you, mum,” he replies, squeezing her tight.

“Who’s this?” His mum asks, looking at Harry.

“Mum, this is Harry.” Louis holds his hand out to him. “And I love him a lot, so you better treat him nicely.”

“Ah, finally get to put a face to the boy who stole my son’s heart.” She pulls Harry in for a tight hug. “I’m Jay. It’s lovely to meet you, dear.”

“You too.”

Louis smiles reassuringly at him over his mum’s shoulder. Harry needs the encouragement, and accepts gratefully.

“Let’s go inside. Dinner will be ready in an hour,” Jay says. “Why don’t you two go upstairs and put your things in Louis’ room and get settled?”

“We’re going to take a quick nap,” Louis tells her. “The drive has drained me.”

“Of course, love. We’ll catch up over dinner.” Jay pats his cheek fondly before she disappears to the kitchen to continue cooking.

Louis reaches for Harry’s hand. “Come on. Upstairs we go.”

He guides Harry upstairs, where he spreads him out on the mattress and crawls on top of him. He leans in for a kiss and Harry meets him halfway, arms curled around his neck.

“It was nice to see my mum yesterday,” Harry murmurs to him. “It’s been a year since I last saw her.”

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” Louis nuzzles his nose against his. He rolls onto his back and pulls Harry on top of him.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“How are you doing?” Louis asks. “Really?”

“I think I’m okay,” Harry answers quietly. “I’m starting to feel whole again—complete.”

Louis squeezes him tightly, burying his nose in Harry’s hair. He says nothing, because he doesn’t need words. He kisses his forehead, feeling the pride he feels for Harry thrumming through his veins.

There’s still a long way to go, still a lot to heal, but it doesn’t feel so impossible anymore. Parker is gone, locked away for ten years. Harry is recovering. Slowly, but he’s progressing.

Louis loves him so much it hurts.

He just holds him, because “okay” is all he’s ever wanted Harry to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this fic. If you've made it to the end, I greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I did xx.


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